Little liars grow up to be great leaders!

A team of Canadian scientists have found that the more plausible a child lies is the more quick-witted they will be in later years and the better their ability to think on their feet - which ultimately makes them good leaders as adults.

Well that means my 7 year old nephew’s going to be a dumb employee for the rest of his natural life because he speaks the truth and nothing but the truth. So much so that my sister and her husband have a habit of clapping their cupped hands over his mouth when he gets carried away with something to tell someone. It's normally the kind of truth you'd rather not hear. In his childlike innocence, verbally, he's not developed the art of sophistication yet.

He’s already told my mum that her on-again/off-again wig makes her look like the Elvis impersonator he saw when he went to a Dead Icons fancy dress party last summer. I must say, the wig doesn't do a thing for mother, but no one thought to tell her this because of the fear of hurting her feelings. But oh no, little nephew said it out loud! He also told my brother in law that the boy next door’s parents don't like him because he’s a busy-body. I've not escaped his wrath either. He said my feet are too big for my body and told my son that his breath smelt of garlic and sweaty trainers.

So I guess he can forget about being a used car salesman, a dusty old sinister Catholic Priest or a politician. They lie for a living so he wouldn't get very far with his whole truth and nothing but the truth thing.

If he has any intention of being this honest as an adult, he might think about becoming a doctor. He’d be brilliant at breaking bad news. He’d be the only doctor who's confident enough to say ‘yes madam, you’re going to die'. Or 'no sir, you’re not going to get better and the drugs won’t work'. Or even 'yes Miss, I amputated your right leg when it should have been your left but that's life – everyone makes mistakes'!

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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You can't burn in hell for speaking the truth!

At my parents yesterday, my mum and dad were talking about the death of my uncle Bobby. I said to the parents I won't miss him, I never did like him. My dad looked at me as if I spat on the living room floor. I then explained that I never liked uncle Bobby because when I was about 6, he locked me in a room "as a joke" and all I remember was a small white room with a dusty old rocking horse and ever since that time, I grew a dislike towards both uncle Bobby and rocking horses.

My dad then looked at me and said did he do anything dodgy to you? I said no, I think I would have said something considering I was a very talkative child, but the last thing a little girl wants is for a big hulking man to shove her into a room she's never been in before and then to hear the door locking behind her. How frightening for a 6 year old me! I also think that's where I grew a dislike for locked doors and even to this day, my children complain because I never lock the bathroom door.

My mum said that I ought to take it back though... my ill thoughts of the dead. I said no, I can't because if God is omnipresent, then he can read my thoughts anyway and he knows I couldn't care less if uncle Bobby were dead or alive. She still insisted that I take it back should in case evil spirits enter their house looking for me and then she'll have to get a priest to perform an exorcism because of my dark thoughts. I took it back but I had my fingers crossed behind my back.

I said to my mum surely you can't burn in hell for speaking the truth but she said you might burn a little bit if you speak ill of the dead.

Well I still maintain that I didn't like uncle Bobby very much. I won't miss him. He's not a real blood uncle anyway. He just so happens to have married someone in the family and what's a man with no kids doing with a childs rocking horse in an empty room?

I hope when he gets to answer for himself in heaven or hell or wherever he ends up, he can answer that question because he scarred me for life!

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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What's the positive intention of that?

I washed and blow-dried my hair this morning because I wanted to try out a new hairstyle. I conditioned it, put some colour through it and then spent about an hour flat ironing it.

By the time I finished with my new creation, I'd sacked my hairdresser in my mind because it looked like I'd just spent the day at the salon. I must say I was pretty pleased with myself.

I went into the bathroom to wash out my brushes and combs. When I turned the tap on, the shower came on and the water hit my head like a sledge hammer and washed away my creation!

I'm not ashamed to say I cried. Not the out loud bawling. Oh no, a single hot tear ran down my cheek. How could something so simple like washing out brushes turn into something so cruel. What had I done to deserve this?

Was it the gloating? The vainglory? The imaginary sacking of my hairdresser?

Even now as I sit here with my head wrapped in a towel I can't believe it!

All I can say is this awful shock calls for a large brandy & coke and it's not even mid-day yet.

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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Come Dine With Me!

There's a TV programme that's called Come Dine With Me which has prompted my friends to organise four sessions of dinner parties and awarding the winner with £100 for the best meal and entertainment.

Well I'm wetting myself because I'm competitive and I pride myself as a good cook on a good day, so I'm sure I can bag a hundred pounds easily! I'm a winner or so I'd like to think. I need to win this game while I cook by hook or by crook.

I do a mean chicken curry. A fantastic prawn salad. I even do a fabulous jerk chicken which consists of a secret recipe from my dearly departed grandma but I don't know how to secure a win.

I've thought about cheating, plying my guests with alcohol or even making "special" chocolate brownies!

I'll do anything to win a game of Come Dine With Me. I'm prepared to sell my soul to Jamie Oliver and the Devil.

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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Was he hitting on me?

Two tree surgeons came this afternoon to trim down the over-grown trees in our back garden. The over-growth seems to be affecting mobile phone and satellite signals. Not to mention blocking out the natural sunlight. Also, I know this sounds terrible, complaining about nature, but I hope the lack of branches will cut out the 50 birds congregating at 4.45am on the dot every morning to give me unwanted birdsong when I need a lie-in! God damn birds don't know a thing about talking in a whisper until people's alarms go off.

I let in these two burly men with big dirty hands, muddy boots, chainsaws and face guards. Very intimidating for people who cut down trees. They looked like they came to murder somebody.

One of the burly men was incredibly friendly. Laughing and joking and getting dirty looks from his colleague because he seemed to be doing more talking, flirting & laughing than cutting.

I sensed that he was hanging around me too much so I decided to make myself busy inside the house, pottering around doing things that didn't really need to be done but I didn't want anymore conversation. That's not what he was getting paid for.

When the work was done, they came in and the chatty one asked me for a signature. While he was standing over me and I think he was standing a bit too close, he said if I have any problems to call him at the office. He then gave me their card as if I didn't already have their telephone number. He asked me for my pen and then wrote his mobile number on the back and winked! As if this wasn't enough, he then said I'll give you my home number just in case.

Just in case of what?

Even if I go into the garden and a tree falls on my head, I won't be calling him. He must be a fool if he thinks I'm going to mix business with pleasure. I've had the misfortune of mixing business with pleasure once before and never again.

He had nice muscles though!

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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Jamaica Up in Arms

Oh dear Lord, the land of my parents birth is on fire.

Some of the people of Tivoli Gardens in the Jamaican capital of Kingston have decided to harbour a known drugs Baron who should be extradited to the United States. But the Tivoli people don't want to hand him over and the drug Baron, 42 year old Christopher Coke doesn't want to step foot in America because it's quite likely that he'll spend the rest of his life in prison.

Christopher Coke, who has a few aliases, one of them is Short-man because of his lack of height, has been protected by some of the residents of Tivoli because he's been a bit if a local hero in terms of money. He gives the community cash handouts, helps out the poor and struggling and has also been known to put local children through school by paying their fees. So as far as some of the Tivoli residents are concerned, he's The Man and they don't want to see him locked up in a US state prison.

But the Police and the Government of the United States want to see this man jailed and they're not playing. So at the moment, the army's shooting people. People are shooting the soldiers. Residents are setting the police station on fire and the whole place is up in arms.

Poor Jamaica. The country has already got a bad reputation for acts of violence, excessive use of Marijuana and high crime. So things look even worse with this new Drug Baron drama. Unfortunately, this awful episode is going to put a strain on Jamaica's tourism for sure. I certainly don't want to be lying on the beach wearing a bullet-proof vest.

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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"I'm Fine" which really means "I hate you so much right now"!

I went on a visit to my parents house yesterday. They were both in fine form. Mother pottering around in the garden and my dad sitting in the leather armchair reading the newspaper.

When my mum came in from the garden, she rubbed her belly and said that she was getting a bit thick around the middle. I said to my mum that I knew exactly what she meant because I put on a summery dress this morning and when I looked in the mirror, my stomach was rounded out as if I were with child. Not a good look!

My mum told me about this new diet of everything raw. Instead of cooked vegetables, she was eating sushi and raw veg and salads. I told her about the chili and maple syrup diet and both of us were comparing diets and bellies.

My dad then looked up from his newspaper and said to us "four words: eat less, exercise more"! Me and my mum looked at each other like who rattled his cage?

Half an hour later, my dad came up behind me and whispered "what's wrong with your mother? I've been trying to talk to her and she cut her eye off me and when I asked her what's the matter, she shouted at me I'M FINE".

Poor dad! After all these gazillion years of marriage, he still doesn't know when to say the right thing and he still doesn't understand what FINE means. It means, I really don't want to hear your voice. It means I really hate you right now. Fine means I'm thinking of 16 different ways of killing you and getting away with it but CSI's put me off; and fine means I'm going to fix your business and hit you upside the head with it when you least expect it.

I ran out of their house like a bat out of hell. I have no interest in seeing how this FINE thing pans out. I just hope they've sorted out my inheritance before they start trying to kill each other!

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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Who's Wearing it Well?

There's nothing worse than turning up to a function wearing the same dress as someone else. This happened to me when I went out for my birthday a few years ago. To my horror, someone slimmer and taller (but definitely not prettier!!) was wearing the same dress as me but thank God I had the foresight to change all the buttons and add a belt. I got that idea from the stylist Gok Wan.

Sometimes, it pays to be creative when you let yourself run wild in Accessorize or a haberdashery store, you can customise your garments and make it your own so even if someone taller, slimmer & prettier is wearing the same dress as you, at least you've put your own personal stamp on it and chances are you'll come out the winner.

On this occasion, Jill Scott and Mo'Nique were not at the same function, but they both were pictured wearing identical dresses.

So who wins? Jill or Mo'Nique?



I much prefer the dress on Jill Scott (on the left). It looks like she made a bit more effort.

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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Things that go bump in the night!

I was fast asleep in bed last night when I woke up to a hell of a racket. I sat bolt upright in bed trying to regain my senses. My heart was beating out of my chest and I could hear the thumping in my ears as I adjusted to awakeness.

Within seconds, my ears located the sound and my brain managed to figure out what the bloody hell that noise was. Yes... it was all coming back to me now. The sound of s*x! My next door neighbours were energetically getting their groove on. I could hear him, I could hear her, I could hear their creaky old bed and my ceiling light was swaying. I thought to myself is that really love making or is that a burglar because they're bashing around like murder over there. If it wasn't for the intermittent sounds of passionate moaning, I would have thought someone was next door with a mask and a night stick!

I didn't want to hear anymore so I quickly turned on my iPod and went back to sleep, moderately disgruntled.

Unfortunately, this morning when I was leaving the house, I so happened to see Miss Jezebel and straight away, I could feel the blood rushing to my face because of what I heard coming from her house last night. She said morning August, you're glowing today. I said my hello's thinking lady, you don't realise that this glow is a black girl's blush!

I don't know what I was blushing for. It wasn't me tearing down my bedroom last night.

The August Mayfield Diaries!

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An August Moment

Experience is a wonderful thing.
It enables you to recognize a mistake
when you make it again.

I want one of those!

Dear Lord in Heaven, please can I have one of those Bodyguard thingy's. If you send me a burly Bodyguard, I promise that I'll stop swearing. I'll stop drinking alcohol, not all together as the shock might kill me, I'll just moderate it a bit and I'll stop telling lies.

I want one of those to hold my umbrella! I'd also like him to drive me around too so that if I were sitting in traffic, instead of tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I could be painting my nails or even sipping champagne to calm my nerves!

I want one of them to open doors for me. To carry my shopping. Pull out my chair. Stand beside me and make me feel protected. Carry my little doggy or pick up it's little doggy poop because I don't want to do mucky stuff like that.

I want one of those to beat up photographers. Mind you, no one takes pap shots of me but just in case, I like the idea of a big burly man grabbing the lens of a camera, opening it up, dragging out the film and throwing the camera on the floor just like what you see in the movies!

If I don't get one of those via devine intervention, I wonder how much they cost?

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The August Mayfield Diaries

Barking up the Wrong Tree

I bought my friend's son a book about three weeks ago. He's 12 and she's been trying to encourage him to read a bit more because she says his spelling is appalling and she thinks it's because he doesn't read enough.

I know that her son is very much into animals because he has a cat, a dog and two rabbits so I thought he'd be interested in a book about animals.

Read more ...

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Wanda Sykes on Karma

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LL Cool J Literally Picking up Ladies

LL Cool J makes an appearance on The View which is America's version of Loose Women.

He shows those ladies what his muscles can do and I can safely say that I'd sell my kidney to the nearest Internal Organ Trafficker to be picked up, even just once by the strong arm of LL.



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Time to Make-Up!

We were having a chat at work this morning about who can and can't leave their house without make-up. I'm happy to tick the box that says "without" because for some reason, I firmly believe in the beauty that's within (on a good day)!

When I apply makeup, it's usually because I'm going somewhere special, or I've had a terrible morning after the night before or I apply makeup to hide something like the scar I leave after picking a spot and I love picking spots. I'll pick mine, yours and the milkman's if necessary.

When I'm in the mood, I love bright colours and sparkly stuff so when I do decide to get painted, I often try to do it so that it makes a fabulous difference. I'm almost ashamed to say, my children have recoiled in horror or the dog runs and hides when I let myself loose on some of the more extravagant make-up colour palettes.

But generally speaking, some of my colleagues would rather die than leave the house without some level of make-up on. The only reason why one of them puts the bins out at midnight is because she doesn't want anyone on her street to see her without her make-up and if she thinks she's in danger of running into one of her next door neighbours, she dives behind the bushes!

I think a lot of women have something in particular that they wouldn't dream of leaving home without and I'm not Miss Perfect by any stretch of the imagination. My thing is I can't leave the house without jewellery. I don't mean Rapper style bling. I mean a piece of jewellery. Even if it's one ring, or just a pair of earrings, without jewellery, I feel undressed. I lost one of my earrings before meeting my sister for lunch once and starting heavy breathing and hyperventilating so I stopped off at Accessorize in the tube station and bought a new pair!

The other thing I can't leave home without is underwear. I know this sounds ridiculous like who leaves home without their knickers on but some women like to go commando. I'd prefer to stick needles in my eyes to be honest. The thought of no bra and panties leaves me cold. Things giggling about and chafing. No thanks.


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And there's me thinking I'm the one who needs glasses!

I was waiting at the train station heading for my appointment at the opticians. I made the appointment because I'm now holding small print to the length of my out-stretched arm and it's disturbing me. Anyway, I was on the platform minding my own business, waiting for the 16:30 when a group of about five children came bounding around quite loudly right where I was sitting.

I quickly looked up and then carried on reading my book but it was hard to ignore the noise they were making so I stared at them with my "have you no respect" look and put my head down again. I didn't want to outright tell them to shut up because you never know when one of those little buggers are going to spit at you or grab your hat off your head and run off and I was having a particularly bad hair day so couldn't afford the embarrassment of seeing the expression on everyone's faces when they saw my hair sticking up like I put a wet finger in an electric socket.

I remember thinking thank God, only 2 minutes to go and then the kids started screaming and running around. One of them had dropped a bottle of coke on the floor and the fizzy liquid was spraying everywhere. I then saw a pointed face woman marching over but she walked past the children and came straight over to my direction and said "can't you control your kids"! I looked up at her thinking this woman must be talking to someone behind me so I looked around and saw no one. She stood there looking straight at me with both hands on her hips. I said to her "are you mad?", she said "no, I'm quite sane today, but I suggest you control your noisy kids or take the bus", I got up and looked squarely in her face and said "they're not my children; my children are at home. One's doing homework and the other's doing chores so '***' off".

I can't quite understand it because I'm black, two of the kids were white and two were Asian! What I should have done is dragged the woman to the opticians with me. Either that or drop her off at the mental hospital on the way there.

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An August Moment

Poverty is nothing to be ashamed of.

What's disgraceful is to have an impoverished heart or to live dishonestly.

Being born in a stately mansion is no guarantee of happiness,

any more than being born in a shack dooms a person to misery.


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Acapella - Kelis

This song was so not supposed to grow on me, but to my horror, it has. I listen to it, watch and dance to it.



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Shirt On/Shirt Off?

Actor Isaiah Mustafa can't decide whether or not to keep his shirt on or off.



Well I'm sure we can help him make a decision ladies!

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Rest in Peace Common Sense

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in Bureaucratic Red Tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:
- Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
- Why the early bird catches the worm;
- Life isn't always fair; and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot... she spilled a little in her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers: I Know My Rights, I Want It Now, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim.

I know you hate me, why we pretending?

I saw a frienemy this morning. I've christened her Cruella de Vil because whenever I see her, my spirit detects pure EVIL. She thinks I have no idea that she doesn't like me but she doesn't realise that her face betrays her words. If she says "hello, how are you", I know she really means "aren't you dead yet"?

I get one of two things from this woman. Either she acts like she doesn't see me or she makes a bee-line to make conversation with me but it's always the kind of conversation that leaves me thinking "the next time I see you, God only knows how I'm not going to kick you in your crotch".

So this morning, it makes a bee-line for me; heading right in my direction with a crooked smile on her pigletty face. She said to me 'morning August. I saw your sons yesterday. Haven't they grown into handsome boys'. Automatically, my heckles are up. I'm thinking here we go... but silly me, I'm monentarily charmed because I hear nice words about my babies and then without missing a beat, b*tch-face says 'I guess they get their good looks from their dad'.



Well ladies and gentlemen, I can't even begin to tell you what I said next. All I can say is Google would shut me down in a heart-beat if I repeat just one word of it and www.augustmayfield.com would just be a blank screen! Even now as I think about it, my blood pressure feels like it's going to kill me.

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Curves or No Curves?

Last year, Victoria Beckham wore this £2,500 knee-length Alexander McQueen dress. I guess Carol Vorderman decided to show Victoria that a woman with a curvier shape could also give the same dress a run for its money.



Wouldn't the world would be a dull old place if everyone was the same shape and size! Personally, I come from a family who love throwing meat in a pot while standing around a hot stove so there's no Mrs Beckham shapes around here.

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An August Thought

The things that come
to those that wait
may be the things left
by those who got there first!

He's not really an Agony Uncle, he's just pretending!

Delicate Twitters are up in arms because "actor" Danny Dyer gave advice in his capacity as an Agony Uncle in Zoo Magazine which included getting drunk and being violent!

Firstly, can I say if anyone writes to Zoo Magazine looking for real sound advice, they need a kick.

Anyway let me get to the point before you lose the will to live. The person wrote in to the magazine asking Danny for advice because he broke up with his girlfriend but was finding it difficult to get over her. Danny responded to the man who wrote in by saying exactly what your best friend or brother might say behind closed doors after several tequila shots. Danny said "go on the rampage", "get drunk", "smash everything up" and "cut up her face so no one else will want her"!

I'm quite sure these words were said mostly for comedy effect more than specific instructions.

My brother once asked me if I wanted him to take my ex to the woods, strip him, beat him and leave him for dead! I'm quite sure my brother only was joking!

But like I said, no sensible person would write to Zoo for proper advice and those people who said Danny should be shot at dawn for his brand of advice need to stop being so soft and stop taking every single little thing literally.

As I write, Zoo Magazine has published an apology for causing any offence! I can't imagine why they want to take themselves so seriously.

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Thank God it's Friday... Let's Get Jiggy!

Timberland Feat. Justin Timberlake - Carry Out



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If that's the Magic formula, then bring it on!

When Oprah Winfrey interviewed supermodel, Naomi Campbell, they discussed what the secret was to Naomi's figure. Naomi told Oprah that she sometimes changes her eating habits to only include maple syrup, lemon juice, cayenne pepper and willpower.


Apparently, this odd cocktail of a concoction is the same nonsense that Beyoncé used to slim down while she was filming Dreamgirls.

So... let's have a look in this pantry of mine. No maple syrup so I'll just use cough syrup. I haven't got any lemon juice but I've got lemonade. Cayenne pepper... erm, no! I've got pepper corns and chili seeds, that might do; and willpower? Can't say I've seen any of that around here.

Somehow, I don't think Naomi Campbell's diet formula's gonna work for me!

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Halle Berry Jumps Ship... again!

It's been brought to my attention that Halle Berry has a new boyfriend. I was a little confused by this information initially because I didn't know she had done away with the old boyfriend and father of her baby daughter Nahla.

I guess Halle Berry is happy to "come out" with the fact that not only has she separated from Gabriel Aubry, but she's dating and it's no secret either considering she was hand-in-hand with an un-named date and they were photographed coming out of the theatre together.

Well good luck to Ms Berry. She's not doing anything that everyday people don't do all the time. I guess it's just unfortunate for her that she's in the public eye and every time she makes a move that's not conducted from the luxury of 'behind closed doors' someone can make an opinion about it. Including me!!

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Is that too much to ask for?

It's my oldest friend in the whole wide world's birthday today. I don't mean she's decrepit and old and 107, I just mean that I've known her since we were both four and she so happens to still be a friend after all these years.

Eve also has a twin sister Anica who I don't see as regularly as Eve, but we manage to get together when it matters; like birthdays, Christmas & New Years and Funerals!

I asked Eve what she wanted as a birthday present. I'm pretty particular when it comes to giving and receiving surprises so more often than not, I not only make requests, I also ask people what they want. That way, neither one of us are disappointed.

So when I asked Eve what she wanted, she said I'm glad you asked because I've got a wish list this year. She said you can take your pick and choose one or more of the items. She said I want an iPhone, anything from the Swarovski Crystal jewellery range, Christian Louboutin shoes, a Stun Gun (which I'm quite sure is illegal and we've not had a conversation about this so something doesn't feel right about this particular request), anything that's not battery operated from the Ann Summers store, a hand-bag, perfume and book vouchers.

I said to Eve this sounds like the type of list you give to your boyfriend; your very kind, generous, rich, "I'm so in love with Eve" boyfriend. I know I'm a Leo and I love to spoil people with extravagant gifts but she was taking the mick.

She said to me if you don't ask; you don't get. But I said to her, I'm not a bloody Genie and this purse isn't a magic lamp, so you need to get real!

Eve then said I was only asking, Jesus!! I said, OK then, I'll get you a Stun Gun because I can't wait to see you electrocute your p*ss-taking wish list self when you unwrap it.

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